


Memory

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [89]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Birthdays, Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Grieving, M/M, Minor Character Death, Short, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Stephen does not celebrate his birthday, instead remembering all the ones his sister never had.





	Memory

   Stephen was exhausted.

   The words of the text he was supposed to be translating had begun blurring and swimming in front of his eyes nearly ten minutes ago, the lids drooping without his permission. It was nearly midnight, the large grandfather clock in the corner of the study, taunting him the entire evening.

   Upstairs, in the warmth and coziness that was his bedroom, Tony was undoubtedly curled up and subconsciously annoyed with him for not having come to bed yet. At least the man was sleeping, Stephen had sent the Cloak to check in on him. The truth was, if Stephen could avoid him all together, avoid tomorrow all together and wake up the following day, he would be ecstatic.

   He squinted up at the grandfather clock, frowning at the minute hand, now only five minutes away from announcing a new day. Tomorrow, that dreaded day would be his birthday and Stephen had no interest whatsoever in observing the occasion.

   It wasn’t that his birthdays were…bad per say. More accurately, Stephen had this stark memory, this clear as day recollection from years and years ago. His first birthday after the death of his sister had only come a month later.

   He remembered the false smiles of his mother, the refusal to even try from his father, the dower, dark mood that came with the knowledge that while he had another birthday, his sister did not. The feeling of…emptiness had never left him and felt especially vivid on his birthday for some reason, even more so then that of his sister.

   He didn’t like them. It was hardly a good reason, but it was a fact and he did everything in his power to avoid it. It had taken him nearly two years to convey the message to Tony in not so many terms and luckily the man had subsided in his attempts at extravagance and parties. Still, it just easier to be here, by himself.

   There was a quiet knock at the door, throwing him out of his own head. Looking up, Stephen found Tony in the doorway, expression pursed with disapproval at the sight he made. Despite himself, Stephen tensed.

   “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

   Tony snorted, walking into the room, “Kettle sweetheart.”

   Stephen tried one more time, “you should go back to bed, I’m almost done here.”

   Tony just shook his head, coming around the desk to take up the space between him and it, where he leaned, looking down at him with a softness that made Stephen’s stomach twist, “you know I might believe you if that wasn’t what you always say.”

   With a sigh, Stephen looked down at his own hands, unable to stand the weight of his gaze. It was silent for a long moment, then Tony shifted and moved forward until he was standing in the V of his legs, a hand gently soothing through his hair.

   Stephen couldn’t explain it, had no excuses but exhaustion and stress, for the tears that burned his eyes, the sob that got stuck in his throat. He bit his lip harshly as he hid his face against Tony’s chest, while the man stood there, seemingly trying to comfort him.

   There was a sudden sharp chime from the old godfather clock and suddenly Stephen’s carefully constructed mask cracked, the one he had maintained for days, and the sob slipped out of his mouth, tears falling in heavy streams down his cheeks. This was why he hadn’t gone to bed, why he had tried to hide away, but after all this time he should know better.

   Tony’s hand tightened, holding him close as he cried. The man said nothing, which Stephen would be forever grateful for as he stained his tank top and tried in vain to stifle the embarrassing cries. Meanwhile, his lover just held him, leaving him feeling both horrible and comforted in a sickening mix.

   After a time, it subsided, then Tony was kneeling in front of him, gently wiping away his tears. Stephen knew his cheeks were flaming, “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

   Tony just shook his head, “don’t apologize.”

   As Tony tugged him up with a careful touch, Stephen let himself be led quietly to the sitting room, where tea was already prepared and waiting. With a pang, Stephen realized Tony had been up for awhile, seemingly waiting for Stephen’s inevitable breakdown.

   He sat on the couch with Tony, who continued to say nothing, simply pressing close to his side, the weight and warmth of him enough to ground him, keep Stephen from drifting off into his mind, at least a little bit.

   It was hard not to feel guilty.

   Stephen knew how much Tony wanted to have a celebration on his birthday, was intimately aware of the man’s urge to spoil him with gifts and unnecessary gestures for the day, but it was too painful, too much to deal with. It had come to a head after the third year of Tony’s attempts and Stephen’s subsequent fleeing to Kamar-Taj, forcing him to tell Tony everything, about his sister, his discomfort.

   Tony was unfailingly supportive, even with the small comments about learning to move on. Stephen didn’t want to move on, this felt strangely right, a penance for what his young self was incapable of doing, of saving the most important person to him.

   “Hey.”

   Stephen blinked sharply back to focus, looking down at Tony’s small smile. The man squeezed his hand, seemed to search Stephen’s eyes for a moment before coming to a decision and murmuring in the quietest of voices, “happy birthday Stephen.”

   His eyes flickered closed and Stephen found himself leaning down to bury his face in Tony’s neck, unsure exactly how he felt about the butterflies that came to life in his stomach. It was odd to have someone who cared so damn much, was so careful about everything in moments like these, but Stephen had long ago decided that he liked it.

   “I love you,” Stephen murmured.

   Tony kissed his forehead and held him while he drifted off to sleep right there on the couch. The day had no celebrations, no presents, no cakes, or candles, instead it was just the two of them, by each other’s side, and to Stephen, there was no better gift.

**Author's Note:**

> Just one of those ones to get out of my system.


End file.
